


house arrest

by thunderylee



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-03
Updated: 2009-09-03
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Daesung can’t participate in any activities while his spine is resting, but Seungri likes it better when he doesn’t move.





	house arrest

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

One of Seungri’s bangs pokes him in the eye as he sighs dramatically, and he takes that as a sign that this is a Very Bad Idea.

He lingers in front of Daesung’s door, pacing like an old man, and internally curses the others’ solo activities rendering them incapable of Dae-sitting. His solo had been pretty successful, hadn’t it? Jiyong wouldn’t have rapped on it if it wasn’t the best. The egotistical part of Seungri can’t help but be a little bitter that _he_ hasn’t been offered a solo album yet.

“Are you going to stand around or are you going to come in?” Daesung’s voice calls out from the other side of the door, and just like that Seungri feels like his confidence level has been knocked down.

Ever since their appearance on Intimate Note, Seungri has been watching himself around Daesung. Maybe a little _too_ much, to the point where he’s actually starting to feel inferior. Daesung is the youngest of his four hyungs, but now he’s the one whose approval Seungri yearns for the most.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he shuffles into the room that Daesung shares with Youngbae. Against his better judgment he glances up, sees Daesung lying straight as a board on top of his comforter, staring at the ceiling and looking bored out of his mind. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Daesung closes his eyes, very obviously covering up a sigh. “Say whatever you want. I don’t have anything better to do.”

His tone is snappish but Seungri figures that he would be crabby too if he couldn’t do anything but lay in bed all day. Instead of frowning he flashes a smile and bounces across the room, putting on his stage face as he carefully sits on the edge of Daesung’s bed and pokes at his cheek. “Your turn.”

“My turn to what?” Daesung asks, raising an eyebrow. “What are you on?”

“ _Smile_ ,” Seungri prompts him. “This place is so dull if you’re not smiling.”

Daesung stares at him for a second, then the corners of his lips begin to rise. Just like that the mood of the room is lifted, and Seungri feels much better about himself and life in general. Instinctively he flops down onto his side and curls up next to Daesung, resting his head on Daesung’s shoulder that rises and falls with each quickening breath.

“Seungri?” Daesung asks quietly.

“Hmm?” Seungri replies as he slinks his arm around Daesung’s waist.

“I’m not Jiyong, you know.”

A laugh escapes Seungri before he can actually process the words. “It’s not like that,” he says for what seems like the millionth time. “Hugging just makes him happy, so I thought it would work for you too.”

Daesung doesn’t answer right away, and when he does it’s in the form of a very weak arm looping around Seungri’s waist. “How uncharacteristically thoughtful of you,” he teases.

“I have my moments,” Seungri replies, giving Daesung a gentle squeeze. “Since I’m not good at comforting words, especially to you, I will cheer you up in other ways.”

“Why ‘especially to me’?” Daesung inquires, sounding genuinely interested. “If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t know how to treat you because I’ve always been the youngest.”

“And I’ve always been the oldest,” Seungri adds. “We’re doomed.”

Daesung laughs then, and it’s such a booming laugh that Seungri shakes from the force. He raises his head to keep from getting dizzy and meets Daesung’s eyes as they squint open, the crinkles of laugh lines in the corners along with the pink of his cheeks glowing enough to cover the healing scars from his recent surgery.

“You don’t have to look at me if it’s painful,” Daesung whispers. “It hurts _me_ to look in the mirror.”

“It’s no different than looking at you any other day,” Seungri jokes, then rushes to add, “I’m kidding! Kidding!” when Daesung starts to pout.

Daesung goes to grab for his collar and that’s when Seungri’s protector instinct clicks; he leans up and places both hands firmly on Daesung’s shoulders, keeping him flat against the bed. Something flashes in Daesung’s eyes, maybe a brief anger, but it fizzles out completely and Daesung gives a little nod. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“It was my fault,” Seungri says. “I riled you up.”

“Um,” Daesung says pointedly, and Seungri is confused until he realizes exactly _how_ he’s sitting. His knees on either side of Daesung’s waist, pinning him down with both hands, Seungri’s face lights up and now Daesung looks panicked. “ _No_ , Seungri.”

Normally Seungri wouldn’t push something like this, particularly with this person in this situation, but Daesung is a horrible liar. His eyes give him away, as does the flush on his face and the way he nervously licks his lips when Seungri’s gaze drops down to them.

And needless to say, Seungri is absolutely _thrilled_ to invoke this reaction in Daesung. The one he really wants to please looking like he’d love nothing more than to _be_ pleased, and despite the two being completely unrelated until about five seconds ago, Seungri sees an opportunity to relieve some of the tension between them.

Daesung winces when Seungri leans down, quickly brushes his lips against Daesung’s. “Does this hurt?”

“No,” Daesung admits. “It hurts to try to avoid it.”

“Then don’t avoid it.” Seungri grins as he slides his hands up into Daesung’s hair to hold him completely still. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Seungri-yah,” Daesung breathes, his hands coming to rest on Seungri’s knees. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Seungri laughs into the kiss, tilting his head to make up for Daesung’s immobility, and he relaxes his grip when he feels Daesung kiss him back. Either he’s warming up to the idea or he’s just bored; either way, Seungri’s confidence grows with each flick of Daesung’s tongue against his.

It’s not his first time making out, but the first time where he’s had to lead the whole way. He has to make all of the moves because Daesung can’t do it himself. For once, Seungri is completely in control, and he _loves_ it.

The hands on his thighs tighten their grip and Seungri realizes it’s because he’s started moving, his hips rocking back and forth just enough to create friction. A faint groan sounds from the back of Daesung’s throat and Seungri can feel it, deepens their kiss as his actions turn to sharp, gentle thrusts.

This isn’t helping Daesung’s spine stay still at all, and even Seungri can’t ignore the nagging feeling that this is causing more harm than good. He changes tactics and shoves a hand between them, lingering around Daesung’s midsection until a sucked-in stomach practically pulls him into Daesung’s pants.

Daesung moans outright when Seungri touches him, wraps his fingers around flesh that hardens in his hand. It’s gotten impossible to kiss properly and thus Seungri trails his lips down Daesung’s neck, feels him twitch in his hand with each kiss to his skin.

“Is it okay, hyung?” Seungri breathes into Daesung’s collarbone, sensing the way that Daesung is fighting not to push up into the touch. “Do you want me to go faster? Tighter?”

“Seungri-yah!” Daesung squeaks, and Seungri flicks his eyes up to see how red Daesung’s face is. “Don’t be so easy!”

Seungri almost laughs, but he leans up to lick Daesung’s earlobe instead. “That’s not being easy. Easy would be if I made you fuck me.”

The sharp intake of breath from Daesung leaves no room for doubt about what his thoughts on that idea are, and Seungri figures that Daesung knows it too because he doesn’t bother trying to cover it up. “There’s no way we could do that without me moving.”

“Sure we could,” Seungri argues. “I would just have to ride you straight up and down.”

“You can’t balance that well,” Daesung retorts.

Seungri nips on his neck and catches him just before he arches his back. “Are you trying to _challenge_ me into doing it? That’s sneaky, hyung.”

Daesung slides his hands up Seungri’s thighs, as far as he can without moving his shoulders. “It’s not like I could stop you.”

“You’re right, you couldn’t.” Seungri withdraws his hand, ignoring the instinctive whine from the man beneath him, and goes to work on his pants. “And you won’t.”

It’s a credit to how worked up Daesung is that he doesn’t even try to protest. His hand returns to Seungri’s bare thigh after he’s stepped out of one leg, nails digging in the skin as their erections bump and Seungri groans into Daesung’s throat.

“I’m not even going to ask why you carry that kind of stuff around with you,” Daesung says in a voice that implies he really doesn’t care.

Seungri chuckles as he manages to twist open the lube with steady hands. “Just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean I don’t know things.”

Presumably Daesung sees no reason to argue, just make weird faces as he struggles to _not move_. “Seungri-yah, I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Sure it will,” Seungri says optimistically, although he’s starting to have his doubts as he worms a finger inside himself and nearly falls over from the lack of support.

Daesung looks like he wants to point out the logic here, but then Seungri inserts another finger and touches something deep inside that has his eyes rolling in his head, and the next thing he knows he’s back in Daesung’s mouth. Whether it was by his own volition or not is debatable, but Daesung manages to kiss him fiercely from below while keeping his head still.

It helps Seungri relax and soon he’s panting against Daesung’s lips, rocking back against his efforts and grazing his arousal against the one that will soon be inside him.

“Hyung,” he gasps, and Daesung kisses him harder, thumb rubbing along his thigh in the only comfort he can give right now. Seungri has to bite his own lip to keep from grinding down against him again, and he makes it until he’s three fingers deep before he can’t take it anymore.

Wordlessly he rolls a condom onto Daesung and coats it with lube, watching Daesung’s features twist in frustration as Seungri gently strokes him. This has to be killing him, not to be able to reciprocate or even reach out for him. It gives Seungri a strange sense of power, which he wisely keeps to himself.

“Stay still,” Seungri teases, leaning down to kiss Daesung’s lips one more time before leaning back and hovering in position.

“I hate you,” Daesung hisses, scratching at the sheets as Seungri plants his feet flat on either side of Daesung’s waist. “So much.”

Seungri thinks about arguing, but then gravity wills him down and he can’t think about much else as Daesung slides inside him. His breath escapes him and he let’s out a soft moan that takes the form of “hyung,” and when he opens his eyes Daesung is looking at him in concern.

He rushes to shake his head as he sinks all the way down, both hands on Daesung’s abs for some kind of purchase as he carefully pushes up with his feet. “Okay?” he manages to get out, and he hopes to hell that it is because he’s not sure if it would be possible for him to stop now.

The resulting moan from Daesung is the best form of affirmation Seungri could imagine, and he’s already trying to up his speed before the older man can breathe, “Faster.”

“And you say I’m demanding,” Seungri mutters, earning a smack to the ankle and another groan as Seungri angles and has Daesung hitting him just where he wants him.

“Seungri-yah,” Daesung hisses in a rushed, desperate voice.

“What is it?” Seungri gasps. “Does it hurt? Should I lean back up? Do you need me to stop?”

“Shut up,” Daesung grumbles. “I was just saying your name because it feels good.”

“Oh,” replies Seungri, and he wants to laugh because even mid-coital they can still manage to be awkward. “Okay.”

Daesung actually does laugh, and then his face takes on a look of euphoria more than usual as Seungri starts bouncing up and down. He feels Daesung’s hesitance to push back up and it makes him even more confident in his actions, periodically checking to make sure he’s not moving Daesung around as he rides him.

It feels good to him too, most of his weight pushing him down on Daesung’s cock that keeps rubbing him deep inside. His thighs are aching but it’s worth it as he leans back and rocks just enough to keep his balance.

“Seungri-yah,” Daesung says again, and Seungri thinks nothing of it until he goes on. “I’m close.”

Seungri’s eyes fly open as he considers his options, decides that he can get off later, and bounces faster. He watches Daesung’s face, mesmerized at the way it scrunches up until he feels Daesung let go inside him, a quiet, high-pitched moan sounding from his lungs.

It’s a relief to finally lean down and rest the strained muscles in his legs, quickly reaching between them and disposing of the condom before Daesung can get too uncomfortable. He’s wearing his trademark grin the next time Seungri looks at him, though, which is worth the sore thighs and a rushed wank as soon as he can move.

He starts to lean up and Daesung’s hand is on his knee, weakly holding him back. “Scoot over so I can… you know,” Daesung whispers, flushing even more red than he already is.

“Are you sure?” Seungri asks, but he’s already shifting.

The first touch of Daesung’s fingers to his cock is practically electric. His face must show it because Daesung laughs and squeezes him purposefully. “I can move my wrist without moving my shoulder. _Trust me_.”

He sure can, Seungri quickly learns as he buries his face in Daesung’s neck and snaps his hips to meet the firm strokes. Small grunts come out with his breaths and Daesung chuckles low in his throat; Seungri can’t even care that he’s technically being laughed at as he feels the tension well up inside him, threatening to overflow until Daesung gives him that last push over the edge.

He comes with a sharp cry, pushing his forehead against Daesung’s collarbone a little too hard as all of his breath leaves him. It takes him a second to realize what he just did and he pulls back in breathless shock, shaking his head in some kind of incredulous apology that Daesung just grins at.

“What?” Seungri asks, struggling to hold up his weight with his arms.

Daesung looks at him smugly. “I totally just wore you out without moving _at all_.”

Seungri waits until he collapses pointedly before rolling his eyes. At least Daesung is smiling again.


End file.
